


My Beautiful Canvas

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader-Insert, Recovery, Self-Harm, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 07:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11754879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	My Beautiful Canvas

“Ready?” Spencer asked you as you walked into the tattoo parlor. Your satisfied smile told him all he needed to know and he watched as you waved to Keisha, your tattoo artist.

After years and years of self-loathing, a canvas of crimson scars and more recently, a very helpful mix of therapy and medication, you were ready to start leading the life you were meant to live. The majority of your life had been filled with music and pain; music, and singing more specifically, being the only thing that kept that blade from snaking rivers down your arms rather than containing the cuts to shallow ones on your thighs. 

So today your right thigh would become a different type of canvas, instead of deep crimson lines, it would feature a dandelion losing pieces in the wind - those lost pieces becoming music notes, all on a watercolor background of blues, greens and purples. You had a ton of other tattoos, mostly small ones covering other scars, but two things remained constant about them - you loved them and Spencer adored them. As you’d sit on the couch at night, his fingers would idly trace over the pictures on your skin. “I’m so ready to go, Keisha.”

Spencer sat towards the top of the chair as he always did when you added a new piece to your already impressive collection. You’d lay your head in his lap as the artist did his or her work, dreamily gazing at your loving boyfriend as he watched your skin get painted all the colors of the rainbow and everything in between.

As the needles hit your skin, the pain was there, but it was more pleasant and with greater purpose than your former pain. With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and imagined the new tattoo erasing your old scars. The memories would be cleared away and replaced with something new - something new for you to admire and for Spencer to run his hands over. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m good,” you replied sleepily. Despite the pain in your leg, you were so comfortable right now. “How is it looking?”

When Spencer glanced down he could see the dandelion start to take shape, the black lines painting themselves over your scars. Not only did he enjoy the pictures you chose to paint across your skin, he was proud - and it showed in his smile. “It looks amazing so far and there isn’t even any color yet.”

Periodically you’d stop to stretch out your limbs and give Keisha’s hands a break, going so far as to send Spencer out for lunch for the three of you, but eventually the color could be applied, and that wouldn’t take anywhere near as long as the delicate flower had taken. The entire time you’d barely glanced down, not wanting to spoil the surprise. The placement you’d chosen was specifically so every single scar in that particular cluster would be covered and until the whole thing was done, you didn’t want to see; you wanted the transformation complete before you took everything in. 

By the end of your time there, you’d practically fallen asleep in Spencer’s lap. “You’re all done,” Keisha said as she pulled out the covering for it. “You know the drill. How to take care of this, blah blah blah.” She’d been your artist forever, so you both knew the talk by now. When you pushed up, the tears began. It was beautiful. Everything you wanted and more. And now when you looked down you wouldn’t have to be reminded of your past.

“It’s gorgeous,” Spencer said, kissing your forehead as Keisha covered it up. After you paid, your loving boyfriend picked you up bridal style and walked you out the door. Your leg was a little sore, but you could’ve walked, so you just laughed as Spencer took care of you. “Ready to go home? Watch a movie maybe?”

“Sure,” you said sleepily. “You can’t trace this one for a while, but maybe you can run your fingers over the rest of them. I always love it when you do that.” Spencer pressed a kiss to your forehead and then began the drive home, helping you up the stairs when it came time to climb the few flights of steps. 

After getting changed, basically a tank top and boy shorts so that your new piece could air out a bit, you laid down on the couch, once again with your head in Spencer’s lap. He turned on the television and started skating his fingers over your previous tattoos. “I was never really one for art,” he said, smiling down at you. “Too much ambiguity for my brain, but with you it’s different. Every tattoo is picked carefully, with such purpose and meaning, and in this case growth. I’m proud of you, my beautiful canvas.”


End file.
